


Smitten

by Soikia



Category: A.C.E (Beat Interactive Band)
Genre: Jun is a light sleeper and Donghun often has to collect his half asleep boyfriend, M/M, domestic AU, introspective piece, they needed more fics and i'm here to provide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 13:41:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11291826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soikia/pseuds/Soikia
Summary: If Donghun were to tell his past self that he'd willingly get out of bed to bring his boyfriend back to bed, past Donghun would laugh. Not at the concept of him being settled down but at the concept of getting out of warm bed.Which is exactly what he's doing now.(In which Junhee is a light sleeper and Donghun loves him enough to bring him back to bed. Even if it's past midnight.)





	Smitten

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at TWO in the morning last night bc i was feeling soft and I just?????? dongjun. need i say more; you could make me cry with them I nearly cried writing this for no damn reason wtf
> 
> ANYWAYS.....i'm writing a dongjun multichapter fic but rn i just wanted to post SOMETHING and that is no where near ready;; any typos in here are my own!!
> 
> If it's any interest to you I listened to these songs while writing it: "Love In The Milky Way" - 10CM, "I Do Adore" - Mindy Gledhill & "Life Is Rosy" - Jess Penner.

It’s midnight. It’s past midnight. Donghun hasn’t checked the clock but the chill in the air, the messy sheets and empty space next to him indicate a time. A fuzzy concept of a moment that he should not be awake to experience. Yet here he is. Alone.

The apartment is devoid of sound, save for the soft whirring of the column fan in the corner of the room. He stretches his arm out, hand ghosting lightly where his boyfriend would usually be. He feels the rumpled sheets, the small waves and divots in the fabric caused from the tossing and turning that he somehow slept through. The comforter, carefully peeled back as to not expose Donghun in anyway, signifies a slow departure from bed. How long had it been? Two minutes? Two hours?

His boyfriend does this a lot. It’s not that Junhee doesn’t sleep well - Donghun has videos to prove that he does. It’s just that the sleep is often easily interrupted. Junhee’s a light sleeper at best, disturbances ranging from the faucet all the way in their bathroom dripping, or the fan clicking from not being cleaned, or the neighbors in room E05 above them pulling back chairs in their dining room because the wife works late and the husband is always willing to make a quick meal. Junhee calls it modern romance when he isn’t busy grumbling about it.

But the fan isn’t clicking, E05 is silent. He stills his body and focuses his attention on the bathroom, but there is no sound of dripping water. Yet here he is, alone with a bed grown cold. There’s a long winded sigh leaving his lips as he himself sits up, dragging a palm down his face. He sobers himself up and slowly swings his legs out of bed and onto the floor. The chill of the wood greets him as if it knew that he would be getting up to go find his wayward boyfriend.

He looks down at the ring on his finger, twists it once, twice. Fiancé.

The door to their bedroom is cracked open just enough for a person to slip out of it. Junhee has grown mindful of the creaking doors and floors whenever he gets up while Donghun's still asleep. He knows which to avoid, how far to push a door before it lets it’s ungodly screech out into the night. They both keep saying they’re going to oil it - going to fix up every door and lay a rug over every protesting piece of wooden floor.

(Junhee jokes one night, after a few glasses of wine, that they’d be silencing what makes their apartment so unique if they fix everything up. Donghun had just smiled and kissed his wine stained lips.)

He enters the hallway and finds the familiar glow of the kitchen lights reflecting off the portraits at the end of the hall. He creeps quietly, fearing that he’ll break the gentle ambience that surrounds him.

The culprit of the cold side of the bed is lingering in front of the kitchen sink when he gets to the end of the hallway. Their kitchen is basically a part of their living room, no walls dictating where the living room ends and kitchen begins. Donghun’s sneaking has been successful. 

Junhee is illuminated the lights, looking like some angelic entity in Donghun’s eyes. They’re both harsh and soft and they make Junhee look even more ethereal than he does on most days. The light bounces off his messy blond hair and if Donghun were to squint, he’d swear he’d see a halo. There are no words to describe the beauty of his fiancé. Attractive, attentive, ethereal? They come close. There was a way that he could describe how he felt about Junhee, though. 

Smitten. 

(That’s how he felt when he’d first met Junhee. His boyfriend’s hair had been short and brown compared to the blond and wavy hair he has now. Donghun had met him at the college bookstore during the third year of college. Junhee worked there to make ends meet and they found romance between the history section. Junhee would argue that he found romance the night that they stayed cooped up in the bean bag chairs until the early hours of the morning, to which Donghun had invited him home after three months of trying to figure out how exactly he should ask Junhee out.)

He smiles at the memory.

Donghun approaches with soft footfalls and Junhee startles once he catches a glimpse of Donghun out of his peripheral vision. A cup (plastic, thankfully) slips from his grip and clatters into the sink. Junhee lets out a mix of a startled gasp and a sleepy whine. Donghun just draws his lips into a tight line, moving to stand behind the other and rest his chin on Junhee’s shoulder. Time to get him back into bed.

“Baby.” Donghun murmurs tiredly, nosing at the shell of Junhee’s ear before moving to dip his face into the crook of his fiancé’s neck. “Come back to bed, it’s late.” He says softly, wrapping his arms around Junhee’s waist. 

“I’m sorry.” Junhee sighs back, placing his hands over Donghun’s. He can hear the metal of the rings clink against each other just slightly but it sounds loud, roaring in his ears as a reminder that they were there.

Junhee had proposed to him six months ago. A wedding was in order at some point but they’re waiting. They’re waiting for that feeling of finding the perfect venue, the perfect place. There’s been arguments over it. But those arguments always breeze over after they’re alone for a few hours; those arguments melt away as they fit against each other to cuddle on the couch, soft apologies mingling in the air.

“You can make up for it by coming back to bed.” Donghun soothes, leaving a trail of tired kisses up along the column of his neck. 

It doesn’t take much to lure Junhee back in. A few soft kisses to his jawline, a turn of his head and a peck on the lips brokering no arguments. It’s a testament to how well Donghun knows Junhee. How well he knows his routine. He knows that the other will grab a glass of water before leaving the kitchen, but he knows that in the end he has won. 

Cup of water in hand and eyes half closed, Donghun gently guides his drowsy lover back to their bedroom. The door hisses in protest when it’s swung a little wider, but neither of them make a comment. Junhee is too busy sipping at his water and Donghun’s too busy keeping them from bumping into anything in the dark room. It’s only then that he realizes that the kitchen light has been left on.

He lets out a gentle, weary sigh as he takes Junhee’s water from his grasp to set it on his nightstand while Junhee wanders off into their bathroom. He turns on his heels to exit their bedroom for what is hopefully the last time as he hears the bathroom door click shut.

By the time he gets back, Junhee has neatly nestled himself back into his side of the bed. He hasn’t pulled the comforter back up yet, waiting for Donghun to join him. He does so gladly.

The sound of rustling sheets is all that he hears for the next minute or so as his fiancé scoots over to nestle against him. It’s a process that Donghun rarely interferes in. Junhee complains that if Donghun moves during the process of settling against him, he’ll have to start all over. In a way, it’s much like a dog circling in its bed over and over until it plops down. At least, that’s what it reminds Donghun of. If he says that outloud he might get smothered in his sleep.

Instead he carefully drapes his arm over Junhee’s middle, head against his pillow as he waits for the squirming to stop.

It does, eventually. He’s left feeling pleasantly warm and thoroughly committed to staying like this until Junhee moves away naturally in his sleep. When he had first met his boyfriend, he had assumed that Junhee would be the big spoon while he would be the little one. He’s not sure why he thought that. Back then he hated the idea of being the one doing the embracing instead of getting embraced.

He’s grown to love it in most aspects. The feeling of Junhee’s breathing, the solid presence of the other’s back against his chest and stomach, the way their legs start to tangle with each other. Even as he thinks that, he can feel one of his legs pressing it’s way in between Junhee’s.

It becomes less of ‘Donghun’s side of the bed’ and more-so the happy middle of the king sized mattress.

“It was the neighbors next to us.” Junhee murmurs, breaking the silence and freeing Donghun from his introspection. “In room D02? They were arguing again.”

“With the amount they’ve been arguing lately, I would’ve figured that you would have subconsciously blocked them out already.” He responds sleepily, tilting his head forward to thunk it lightly into the mess of blond hair, breathing in deeply. 

Junhee hums quietly.

“I don’t think we’ll be hearing them argue much longer.” 

“Hm.” It comes out less questioning than Donghun intended. Junhee seems to get what he was going for, though.

“It sounds like they’re close to calling it quits. I can’t hear everything they say but…” Junhee pauses, and Donghun doesn’t even have to look at Junhee’s face to know that there’s a frown there. “I dunno. It’ll be weird, won’t it? When we start seeing only one of them hanging around….I wonder who will keep the apartment.”

“The girl will. She was the one who rented it, right? She was single when we got here nine months ago.”

“Fair.” Junhee mumbles, moving one hand so he can trace Donghun’s knuckles. “It’ll be weird, seeing her alone. We would always see them together - they’ve practically become one entity.”

“You already said that.” He murmurs lovingly. “Go to sleep, Junhee.”

“We won’t end up like that?” Junhee flips the subject completely. “The - the yelling? The nightly arguments -”

“In the five years we’ve been together, has our yelling matches ever been as bad as D02’s yelling? Have we ever had something that can be considered a yelling match? Have any of our fights lasted more than two or three days?” Donghun asks tiredly. Junhee remains quiet, lost in thought before shaking his head.

“We’ll argue. Every couple argues.” Donghun states, eyes slipping closed. “But we’ll work through it like we always do. Communication has always been important to us.”

“Mm.” Is the only reply he gets. He blinks his eyes open as Junhee shifts again. Donghun just sighs a little and rolls onto his back. Junhee hums in quiet appreciation as he rests his head on Donghun’s chest. Donghun tilts his head slightly, glancing over Junhee’s body to the clock on the other’s nightstand.

2:53 in the morning. He mentally curses out room D02 for arguing so late at night.

No more words are shared between them. Junhee starts to slip into sleep first, hand lazily searching for Donghun’s. He smiles at the loose way they hold hands, both too tired to form a proper grip.

As he’s drifting off, he feels a one soft squeeze on his hand. The corners of his lips twitch into a smile as he squeezes back. In a way, it’s their version of a non verbal ‘I love you’.

Junhee’s soft snores soon lure him into the further edges of sleep.

When they wake up in the morning, Junhee is clutching at the fabric of Donghun’s shirt as he continues to sleep. This is typically how mornings start. Donghun gently smoothing the furrow of Junhee’s brow while his fiancé presses impossibly close to his side. It takes ten minutes for him to ease out of the others grasp when he decides to get out of bed.

He makes it an effort to go pull open all the blinds in the house to let the natural light in.

It isn't until fifteen minutes later as he's preparing breakfast that Junhee comes in, rubbing at his eyes. There's no conversation shared in the morning, there never is. It's the grace period between the two of them, a silent moment to themselves even if they're together.

Room D02 could learn a few things from them, he thinks. They're no where near perfect, but five years teaches you a lot about loving someone.

He looks over at Junhee, admiring the puffy face, the half closed eyes, the red lines that mark where his face was pressed into the wrinkled fabric of Donghun’s shirt.

Yeah, five years teaches you a lot.


End file.
